


Toys in the Medical Bag

by Synesthesia_Demon



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kinky, Light Bondage, M/M, NSFW, Smut, Tickling, it gets kinky up in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 03:44:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synesthesia_Demon/pseuds/Synesthesia_Demon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot smut of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes playing with, erm, things...in the bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toys in the Medical Bag

**Author's Note:**

> If you saw this on tumblr under a different name, don't fret, it's still me. I had to change the title to a PG version, as per the rules (I think I saw that) but it's still the same "Kinky Wanker" I wrote.

“John, why on Earth do you need your medical bag now?” grumbled Sherlock, not without a trace of worry and a nervous tug at his restraints. 

“Sherlock, I told you, relax. I'm not going to do anything to make you uncomfortable. And not all my equipment is in here,” he added soothingly, patting the bag before opening it up. “I'm not going to hurt you, I promise.” He ruffled Sherlock's curls. Sherlock wrinkled his nose at him. John pulled out a pack of cotton buds.

Sherlock eyed him curiously. “What are you going to do, swab me?” he teased.

He narrowed his eyes at him and smirked. “Oh do stop asking so many questions, or you'll spoil the fun. Don't make me gag you.” He chuckled. “Although I might just do that anyway. We'll see, won't we?” John popped open the cotton buds and pulled one out. He tugged his shirt off and tossed it into the corner. Sherlock's eyes dragged down John's body, taking in every muscled, gleaming bit. His cock stirred as John stood and walked towards the foot of the bed, his movements slow and deliberately sensual. He knelt and twisted the cotton bud in his fingers. Sherlock's eyes widened as he pieced everything together.

“John, no.”

“No?” said John, tutting as he reached for Sherlock's ankle. “No? What exactly are you saying no to? Spread your toes for me, would you?” he added, watching the blush colour Sherlock's face. 

“Please, don't,” he pleaded, pitch rising as he pulled, futilely, at the restraints again.

“Please, don't, 'what', Sherlock?” He stood and stalked over to him, leaning in close enough for their noses to touch. His blush deepened and he turned his head.

“Please don't...don't...” Finally, he sighed. “I can't.”

“You can't what? You can't say it?” John cupped Sherlock's chin. “You can't tell me what you don't want me to do?” he whispered.

“N..no.” 

“Well then,” he murmured, “let's get on with it, shall we?” He straightened.

Sherlock turned his head, biting back a smile. He knew that John would never let him deny himself the pleasures he wanted so badly, not even when he begged. When he'd been able to admit to John the things that made him tick, he'd been torn between shame and hopeful need. And John, bless him, had reassured him that he was not “a freak” or “a weirdo”, and that there was nothing wrong with the way he worked. John wasn't even slightly embarrassed to do those things for him. And he tried very hard to not let Sherlock be embarrassed, either. So when John knelt again, Sherlock relaxed and just let him continue. 

“Spread your toes, Sherlock. Don't make me tell you again.”

He couldn't hide the grin as he obeyed. He was giggling, even without being touched yet. 

“Look at me. Watch me.”

He bit his lip and tilted his head so he could see John better. The cotton bud slid between two of his toes and he groaned. And when John twisted it, his roan turned to short bursts of laughter. Sherlock curled his toes automatically against the tickling sensation.

“Sherlock.” He twisted it again.

“I'm sorry!” he squeaked, trying to keep them straight. John repeated the process between two different toes and Sherlock couldn't keep himself together. John huffed and pulled them back. He glided the bud underneath. Sherlock's face scrunched into a painful grin and he groaned, his arms pulling the cuffs tight as he forced himself not to fight against him. John zig-zagged the bud across his foot, making him twitch and twist. 

“John!” he cried, grunting and squirming, unable to pull himself away. 

“Sherlock, if you don't stop, I am seriously going to shut you up,” warned John, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. He slid the bud in circles around his heel. Sherlock's head thrashed back and forth as John moved faster, then slower, then slower still. Teasing him. _Teeeasing_ him. And then it stroked on the top of his foot.

Sherlock let out a yelp despite trying to prepare himself for the ticklish _zing_! that shot through his body. John abandoned the cotton bud and began jabbing his fingers all over Sherlock's feet and ankles. “Nooo-ho-ho! _John! JOHN_!” he cried between bursts of laughter. John stood quickly and strode over to his medical bag. He pulled out a gag, Sherlock's favourite. Not a ball gag, but one shaped like the head of a knob.

“Open your mouth, Sherlock. Maybe you'll like it better while you have something to suck on in the meantime.” Sherlock moaned around the gag and lifted his head dutifully as John Velcroed it behind his head. “You know what to do if you need to stop; snap your fingers.” Sherlock nodded. John climbed over Sherlock and straddled him. He drummed his fingers on Sherlock's belly, then snapped up to grab him around his sides. Sherlock squawked around his gag, and his eyes scrunched up. John ground his hips against his as his fingers slid up under his arms. He moaned and his breath hitched, the two contrasting feelings shocking him, shaking him, and he was drowning happily in the pleasures of both. 

John's hands slid lower then, past his hips and right into his thighs. His eyes popped open as John's hands spread him, and his fingers stroked gentle circles upward towards his stiff cock. He bucked and wiggled, trying to get his fingers to stroke every inch in between, and to relieve the itch they left behind. John smirked and danced his fingertips up over his shaft, while wrapping his other hand around his own. Sherlock's cheeks reddened and his cock twitched as he watched John stroke himself, and his hips pushed up with every tickle John administered on his. John reached over and pulled out another cotton bud. With a devilish look and a wink, John slid down and placed the tip of the bud against Sherlock's cock. Sherlock shook his head frantically...but he didn't snap his fingers. John chuckled darkly and slid circles around the head. Sherlock threw his head back into the pillows and groaned, thrusting upward into John's hand. John pushed him back down. He bent his head and blew a bit of air on the head of Sherlock's erection. He swabbed up the drops of precum that had begun to leak out, and spread it down the side of his shaft. 

Sherlock was twitching and twisting in ticklish agony. His toes curled and his hands balled into fists. He could feel every single movement on his cock; all his nerves were extra sensitive and focused on that one, tiny little area where the swab would touch. And at the same time he felt as if he was on fire, a tingling, burning, delicious fire that grew with very stroke. John reached behind him to tickle under his knees and he yelped again.

“Oh, what's the matter, Sherlock, don't you like it?” Sherlock rolled his eyes and John tickled under his knee again. “Must you be so rude? Hmm?” His giggles were muffled, and his eyes were squeezed shut and crinkled at the corners. John took the tickling back to his cock, and the giggling was replaced on and off by his moaning. He took them both in his hands and stroked, grinding against him while trailing his fingers in the hollows of his hips. His head tilted back and his breath hitched with every gagged moan that came out of Sherlock. “Fuck... Sherlock... you kinky wanker...”

Sherlock's eyes flashed him a lust-filled glance and he moaned loudly. John's hand was slick with precum from both of them and he quickened the pace, his own body tensing from the shiver-inducing friction. Sherlock wasn't going to last much longer and he knew that, so when he heard him begin to whimper he immediately pulled back. He climbed up and pulled the gag out of his mouth. 

“Suck,” he ordered, grabbing Sherlock by the hair and pulling his head forward. Sherlock took his cock in, sucking greedily and lavishing it with his nimble tongue. John thrust lightly, and he accommodated, taking in as much as John wanted him to, and even then he craned his head to take in more. “The things...you do.. to me... you wanker... oh _fuck_!” cried John, yanking himself back and spraying Sherlock's face with hot cum. Sherlock opened his mouth to catch some and licked drops from his lips. John knelt, panting for a bit, before putting the gag back in. He slid back down and took Sherlock in his hand again. He tickled his fingers all over his torso while stroking his cock, making him squirm and buck and whimper again. It didn't take long before he cried out for John around the gag and came himself. He arched into John, gasping and trembling as his orgasm tore him apart, and it seemed like forever before he could fall back to the bed, still keening. 

John uncuffed his legs first, rubbing his legs up to his torso and arms. When he removed them from Sherlock's wrist, his arms thunked down to the bed. And when he finally pulled out the gag, Sherlock was only able to weakly murmur, “J-John.” 

He patted his cheek. “Come on, then, got to clean up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you're reading here? Follow me on tumblr @ http://synesthesiademon.tumblr.com/


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